


Keep Calm and Carry On

by okbutjusthisonce



Series: RFU [25]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Sherlock, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Drugs, Dysfunctional Family, Family Drama, Lusty Omega, M/M, Mpreg, Omega John, Omega Verse, Pregnancy Kink, Pregnant John, Tea, jealous alpha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 21:29:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3183803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okbutjusthisonce/pseuds/okbutjusthisonce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tea Time was destined to be a tumultuous affair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Calm and Carry On

**Author's Note:**

> I started this sooooooooo long ago... really, much like John, it's long overdue.

The muted landscape of the countryside rolled by pleasantly. It was hardly the kind of scene that should cause anxiety. Nevertheless, Sherlock's heart beat a little harder the closer they got to their destination. By the time the car arrived at his mother's, he was fighting the impulse to jiggle his leg nervously.

“Ready?” asked John, smiling. Sherlock watched his older children and their nannies pile out of the other cars and storm their grandmother. The three toddlers kicked and squealed in their seats. The twin infants gurgled contentedly.

“Never.” he rumbled. John shook his head sympathetically. 

"You’ll be alright, love. The children are all around, and I’m no one else’s but yours. Just try to remember that, and you'll be able to keep calm.”

Sherlock thrust his nose into John’s neck and breathed his scent in deeply. His eyes were bright and bleary, for he was already quite intoxicated from being in a small, enclosed space with John for so long.

“Keep calm... In about two minutes I’ll believe she’s after you _and_ loves you more than me-” he complained. John interrupted Sherlock with a turn of his head, brought their mouths together. Sherlock inhaled sharply at John's intensity; the kiss ended with a gentle nip to Sherlock’s lower lip.

"You're mine." Said John playfully.

“You know that’s the hormones talking." Sherlock countered with a small smile.

“Right, let’s go then.” said John opening the door.

 

+++

 

Mummy stood straight and tall in the sunlight. Dressed in shades of cream, her clothing, hair, and the lightly frosted lawn made her appear a glittering ice queen that sent a quick shiver through Sherlock. His children had already scattered themselves across the property, for the family home was very old and full of romance. Mycroft stood behind her, flashed a quick smile at them as they approached. The toddling triplets had already made a beeline for him.

"Darling!" Mummy cried in delight. She threw her arms wide in a grand gesture of welcoming. It was impossible to know to whom she was speaking.

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear." She said as John waddled over.

"Hello, Mummy," John said. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and turned the baby he held to her. Mrs. Holmes kissed and fussed over baby Jeremy, then turned her focus back to the state of John’s body. He looked even bigger, more absurd than usual, bundled up in a coat.

“Oh John! Oh just look at you! she said, eyes agog on John’s enormous stomach, “Sherlock’s really got you into trouble this time, hasn’t he?”

“It’s not as if it’s particularly difficult." Sherlock grumbled under his breath. He bounced the second twin and contorted his face into a smile as his mother kissed baby Edward, then focused her attention on him.

"And here's the big bad alpha." Mummy said.

"How are you, Mummy?" asked Sherlock.

“Well, I'm obviously quite shocked at the state of your omega. Sherlock, what have you done this time? The poor little thing can barely walk! Look at him!" Mummy half scolded, half praised, "He's simply laden down with the _fruit of your loins!_ " Sherlock winced, muttered something unintelligible.

"Not to mention your own sorry state," Mummy tsked. She scrutinised Sherlock up and down, both pleased and dismayed at her younger son's unhinged appearance. "You're looking rather frazzled, darling." she said. Her eyes fell to his crotch and she shook her head in sympathy.

"You may have overdone things this time. Not everything needs to be made such an ordeal, you know."

"It's not as though I've deliberately 'made an ordeal' of things." Sherlock sulked.

"No. Well, you always were the impulsive one. I suppose no one will think any less of you for following your alpha nature to the extreme like this, even if it does suggest a lack of self control. But still, darling, that can't be comfortable, for you or for poor John at this point. Size isn't everything you know, bigger isn't necessarily better, although I'm sure at times it feels so!" Mummy said. She continued to scrutinise him with scandalous approval.

"Your poor body! Do you know darling, it can be addictive, this kind of sexual enhancement, natural or otherwise. You must take care, I've heard many accounts of alphas and omegas who can't go back to a normal sized cock. They simply can't get satisfaction! You would have to resort to using all sorts of toys! Picture that! And, oh dear, oh dear, just look at your poor over-bred mate," she tutted. Sherlock blushed at his mother's words, bit his lip.

"I'm happy," said John, 'We both are."

"Of course, well, you are a very special omega, darling. Sherlock's so very lucky to have you. One really never expected he'd turn out to be such a rogue, but, one never knows what one will get with one's children. Certainly, he wasn't raised to be so."

"I'm not a rogue," Sherlock objected.

"Well darling, you are without a doubt an unbonded alpha who can't seem to stop making babies- not that they aren't all precious! Yes! Every last single one of them!" She ended her sentiment by pawing and kissing the twins lovingly.

"Rogues wander. They have multiple partners. I don't do either, Mummy."

"No, darling, no. As I've said, John is very special and you are lucky to have him." Mummy turned back to John. "How many was it darling?" She asked, "Four?”

“Five.” said John.

“Five! Oh dear oh dear, Mycroft! Have you seen John?”

“Yes, Mummy.” said Mycroft patiently.

“Your reports haven't done the situation justice, darling. John is simply huge. Look at him, poor little thing! Had I known I would have insisted on better care!"

"Really I'm alright." Smiled John. His eyes had become large and soft in the company of the three alphas, including the family matriarch. Clearly pleased, Mummy turned back to him.

“May I?” she asked, reaching out.

“Of course.” said John.

“Oh dear oh dear...” she said as her hands ran over John’s distended flesh. Her eyes, in contrast to Sherlock's, seemed to grow darker at John's scent. Sherlock half repressed a growl and looked away as John practically purred like a cat at his mother’s touch. He busied himself instead with nuzzling baby Edward.

“They’re quite active aren’t they?” said Mummy.

“More and more, yes.”

“These babies want to come out, don’t they?” she cooed to John’s huge stomach, “Yes they do! Poor John, it's almost time, isn’t it?”

“Yes, any day now.”

“It’s looking like any second, darling. You really ought to reconsider having them here." She said.

"We're going back to Baker Street in the morning." Sherlock insisted with an air of forced composure.

"Naturally! Though one never knows. He could go into labour at anytime at all. Tsk! Oh John, darling, what a champion you are. This is a lot you've got ahead of you. But then, you do always manage, don't you?"

"Mmmm-hm." John hummed in dreamy agreement. Sherlock's lip twitched then curled into a snarl reflexively. He placed a trembling hand firmly next to Mummy's gently stroking fingers. John shuddered at his alpha's touch, and smiled. Mummy looked at Sherlock sympathetically. She moved her hands to his face and petted his cheek as if he were a simple child.

"My poor baby. You know," she mused, "my husband was a good man, but I must say not much of an omega. I would have loved more children, but it took forever to just to squeeze these two out of him-”

“Mother!” Snapped Mycroft in sudden embarrassment, “That’s quite enough!”

“Excuse me?” said Mummy straightening up with a steely gaze. Both the Holmes boys shrank a little.

“I - I won’t have you sullying father’s memory... please ...” Mycroft said bravely.

"Hm. You always were sentimental, much like your father.” she said.

“I’d like to sit down.” said John diplomatically.

"Of course, of course, my love! Come and be by the fire. It's nice and warm and I have some friends for you to meet. Not to mention a wonderful holistic masseur coming for you in just a little while... He does the most amazing things with natural extracts..."

Sherlock watched as John slowly waddled away arm in arm with their mother. He growled a little, then managed to shake it off. Instead he turned to Mycroft.

"What friends?" He asked. Mycroft sighed.

"Mummy's been bored lately," he said, nodding towards the house.

 

+++

 

"Stewart, darling! Come and meet my sons." Mummy said. She was addressing a young omega, preoccupied with a journal. He was walking and writing, occasionally muttering at his notes.

"Hello," Stewart said. Sherlock could not help but stare at the young man. He was tall and thin, with serious, pale eyes and sharp cheekbones. His short, dark curls were just on the edge of unruly. Stewart nodded at them, briefly pausing at John, then resumed his writing after the introductions, following slowly behind them.

In the parlour a fire was indeed going, and the five of them settled into the warmth of the sitting room. The babies played with each other over thick carpeting. The scent of the mulled cider that the children would soon be given permeated the house.

"Now my darlings. Wait until you see how I've had your room made up this time, it's perfect in the event that John should have to deliver here..."

"Why should he have to, Mummy?" Sherlock asked.

"Why, darling, just look at him! The poor dear looks as though he's about to burst!"

"Thank you for thinking of us, Mummy." Said John. His voice was soft and relaxed, quite the opposite to what Sherlock was feeling. It was rather powerful in a vague, omega-ish way, and it brought Sherlock's anxiety down a notch. He supposed the other alphas felt it too. Stewart looked up at John's voice. He closed his book.

"So you're the doctor, right?" He asked. His smile was surprisingly mischievous. It changed his whole face so that he suddenly wore a playful, winning demeanor. His upbeat, American voice rang out as clear as a television character's. John turned, surprised by the sudden attention from the young, attractive, omega.

"Yes, though I'm on leave at the moment." He said. He patted his swollen stomach happily.

"Sure." Stewart said, nodding towards John's enormous belly, "the countryside's a great place to have them," he said, "it's peaceful, the air is clean-"

"We're leaving right away," Sherlock said. He could feel the cranky, jealous alpha he'd been wrestling with, gaining ground. Stewart nodded absently without looking away from John's gravid form.

"It suits you," he said, "you're very attractive. Sexy."

"Er...Thank you," said John.

"John is mine," Sherlock said.

"Yes, darling," soothed Mummy.

"If you were my omega, I'd be jealous all the time," said Stewart.

"Come now Stewart, you're making poor John blush," said Mycroft.

"Of course he is, darling, Stewart is very fetching himself," Mummy countered, "not to mention brilliant. Who wouldn't be flattered at his attention?" John smiled back happily, though it was not quite the usual expression he gave to alphas, or even other omegas. He loved attention and was indeed flattered, but a little confused as well at this younger omega who seemed to be flirting with him, and who he found oddly appealing. Stewart smiled at John.

"I am brilliant, that's true, but I bet you're just as clever," he said to John, "I've been writing a dissertation on omegas in the sciences. Maybe I can interview you for it-"

"Oh. Yeah, sure," said John, forcing himself to focus a little.

"Stewart is a talented biologist," explained Mycroft. "And physicist," Mummy added, "Stewart is a genius."

"I'm a talented physicist and biologist," offered Sherlock, "I'm a genius, with an international reputation."

"Yes, darling," Mummy said.

"I really consider myself more a chemist." Said Stewart.

"Really." Sherlock said snidely. John elbowed him gently in the ribs.

"Well, darling, you could also be considered a linguist, or a musician. Certainly you're quite skilled in all those areas. As I said, a genius." Mummy said to Stewart. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "It's an excellent idea, darling, John is very accomplished, and has some amazing adventures under his belt," Mummy added. Sherlock's nose twitched in agitation.

"In no small part thanks to me," he muttered.

"Where are you from?" Asked John, "are you a student?"

"Massachusetts." Said Sherlock, "MIT."

"California," said Stewart, "Stanford, en route to Cambridge. I'm taking a semester off, interviewing soon," Mycroft raised an eyebrow at Sherlock's error. Sherlock snorted softly.

"Nice guess though," Stewart added, "You're the P.I., right?"

"Consulting detective," said Sherlock.

"I did something like that when I was a kid. My best friend and I - sometimes helped my dad out. He was the chief of police-"

"Did you have a talking dog as well?" Said Sherlock condescendingly. Stewart turned to look directly at Sherlock.

"The lab here is incredible," he said.

"You've given him my lab, Mummy?!" Sherlock whined.

"Well now darling, you haven't used that room since you were a boy..."

"It's only temporary," said Stewart.

"Keep away from my journals," Sherlock warned.

"Although you do know you're welcome to stay as long as you like, darling." Mummy smiled.

"Your school ones? That's mostly what I've found. Would you like to see what I'm working on?" Stewart asked, turning back to John.

"No." said Sherlock.

"Sherlock! That's very rude," said John. Sherlock scowled. Stewart smiled and shrugged.

"Then let me try to guess something I don't already know about you,' he offered.

"Oh, yes, darling! Stew is quite good at deducing things," said Mummy, "even without the benefit of a childhood full of practice like you boys had."

"I see you're a violinist - "

"You'd already know that from staying at my mother's."

"and - you, doctor, - you were in the military, in Iraq, weren't you?"

"Wrong." Said Sherlock.

"Or Afghanistan..."

"That's very good!" Mummy smiled. Stewart looked pleased. Sherlock scowled.

"Alright, what else?" He demanded, "something new, current."

"Well, I don't know," Stewart looked Sherlock up and down. "You live near Regents Park."

"That's an easy one."

"Oh, you've been brawling with alphas, as recently as last night."

"Sherlock, darling! Again? Poor thing, it's his hormones, you know..."

"You sleep with alphas and omegas." Said Sherlock.

"You were a virgin into your 30's." Stewart answered.

"That couldn't be helped, darling," soothed Mummy, "you hadn't met John yet."

"You come from a working class family. You've changed your accent." Sherlock fired back.

"Well, you're someone who pretends to have less wealth than they do. What's that about?"

"You're just learning chemistry. Teaching yourself from my books and equipment, and notes from my childhood." Sherlock accused. Stewart narrowed his eyes.

"You're paranoid, and no wonder- you can't think properly, all you can do right now is follow your omega around in a jealous, lusty haze!"

"Oh dear, now, now..." Said Mummy, not entirely displeased. "

You're not taking a semester off to interview at Cambridge. You've been suspended - most likely for being an impostor!"

"Sherlock!" John scolded. Stewart smiled bitterly.

"I am working towards Oxford." He said, "I was going to be an astronaut, but they didn't care for some of my ideas,"

"And he's staying here for the time being, darling." Mummy added.

"He's a pathological liar," Sherlock said, "he isn't even American." The two looked at each other coldly. Stewart broke into a big grin.

"You're vexed by me," He said, "a clever omega who's unattainable. Who prefers your mate to you. In fact, everyone in this room is fixated on him, and that's driving you nuts. That's the truth."

He turned his winning smile back on John.

"I'd like to recite a poem I wrote, just now, for you," he said, "about how awesome you are." Sherlock growled loudly, glaring alternately at Stewart, Mummy, and John. Mycroft folded his hands together, crossed his legs at the ankles.

"That's all - um, great, everyone, well done." John offered. He guestured discouragingly with his hand towards Stewart, before the boy could start his serenade.

"It isn't." Said Sherlock. Mycroft smiled his sour smile.

"I told you they wouldn't like each other, Mummy, they're too similar." He said.

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear... Perhaps you were right, darling," Said Mummy.

"What?!" Sherlock cried.

"Personally, I don't see it." Stewart said. He stood to take his leave. He adjusted the blue scarf he'd put on to go out, and opened his notebook back up. Before he was out of the room he'd been completely absorbed by it.

"On that point we agree," Said Sherlock, "I'm going to the library."

 

+++

 

Sometime later, after a lecture from Mummy on the importance of Kegel exercises (but before one on the importance of oral sex could occur), John lay on his back, under a soft blanket, an eye mask on.

Mummy had provided many fine massages in the past, and he was eagerly anticipating this one. He heard the door open.

"Are you ready?" Asked a girl's voice softly. The sweet scent of a young, healthy omega came with it. An undeniably 'fresh' scent, it was as if springtime were somehow emanating from her pores. It was a scent that made people (John included) feel instantly relaxed, happy.

"Mmmm-hm." He said.

"Wonderful, let's get started," John heard the masseus move about the room then open a jar. A strong, but not unpleasant herbal scent made its way to his nostrils. Soon, delicate fingers were rubbing the pungent oil into his temples.

"When are you due?" The girl's fingers were working expertly down his neck, quickly releasing tension. John sighed in pleasure at aches he didn't know he had were made present, then dissolved. His body was on the edge of a deep pleasure he hadn't felt in ages. The girl was skilled.

"Soon," her said,"I'm overdue actually."

She laughed gently.

"I can tell," she said, "you're really big. The biggest I've ever seen. You'll give birth here, then?"

"Oh, I don't think so-" John murmured. It seemed to be the going house rumour. He didn't really mind, about anything really, for in this house of adoring alphas (and one oddly forward omega nearly twenty year his junior) he was feeling wonderfully carefree on top of his physical bliss. The oil smelled strongly and tingled his skin.

"What's the stuff you're using?" He asked.

"It's an all natural blend specifically for pregnant omegas. It helps promote good circulation, hormonal balance, and gland health. Do you like it?"

"Mmmm-hm."

The girl sighed.

"I think it's so amazing, what you're doing." She said.

"Oh, yeah?" Mumbled John, "thanks..."

"Beautiful," she said. Her fingers slipped along the sides of his face. John shivered in spite of himself; her fingers had met his scent glands, and for a split second, relaxation was replaced by arousal.

"Um... Uh, um yeah." He said. Surely it had been a mistake. But then, he wouldn't put it past Mummy to get him an erotic massage. Or give him the option, anyway. He supposed if he encouraged things - John instead ignored it and the girl continued on his arms, from his fingertips up to his shoulders, one after another. He relaxed again, inhaled herbal extract and floated in his bliss.

John felt her climb onto the table. She began to work his shoulders, just above his collarbone.

"Hot," she said suddenly. John felt the room was actually on the cool side, (most of the old house was big and prone to being drafty) and was about to say so when he noticed that the girl's voice had taken on a distinctively sultry tone. Her breath had quickened and her hands had, without his noticing, jumped all the way down to his belly. She was rubbing oil all over him, inspiring his cock to jump to life. He tried to sit up, but somehow, she was pinning him down with her body, an unexpected strength and skill (along with his own weight) preventing him from moving very much. He wriggled in surprise on the table. It instantly inspired the girl to engage in some excited wriggling of her own.

"You're so fucking hot, you and that big alpha of yours, so fucking nasty how you let him breed you like this-" she undulated and rubbed her body against his, her fingers moving back up to the underside of his jaw, working their way into his erogenous zones with a surprising efficiency.

"Wha- uuhn!" John gasped at the unexpected sensation of intense pleasure; it had all happened so fast-

"When you - when you have them, can I be there?" She gasped, "Please? Can I be part of it, can I-"

"Who are you?" A man's voice curtly asked. The girl pulled back in surprise, settling on John's chest, and he wriggled his arms free. He whipped the mask off. A man wearing white spa clothes had just come in; a beta, with a trim, grey moustache and an unhappy, if not professional expression. He was confronting the excited young girl who straddled John in her underwear, fingers poised mid-air and dripping with oil. She smiled sweetly at John.

"Emma." She said.

 

+++

 

It normally would take much more than an odour to break Sherlock from his mind palace, but his alpha side had never been very good at being in that space to begin with. He was ousted from his meditation by a tickle in his nose and the feeling that someone was there. He wandered through the sanctuary of the library, inhaling sharply. The soft warmth of the place and its rows of familiar books had made for a welcoming escape from his uncontrollable jealousy, but now something was amiss. He wished John were with him, he should have insisted he come along...

Sherlock had just crossed the room when his eyes began to water, his keen sense of smell assaulted.

"Ahem."

Sherlock turned and glared at the young man who was sprawled out in his favourite armchair. Snubnosed with short, sandy hair, and an ensemble of clothing that suggested both hoodlum and fashionista, the boy was sucking on a shiny metal object. He exhaled and glared at Sherlock with an air of attractive defiance only someone under twenty could pull off. It was his scent that had roused Sherlock's alpha side. The boy was wearing Sherlock's belt, wrapped neatly around his wrist in a retro punk-rock manner.

"You can't be in here with that." Said Sherlock.

"Who are you then?" The boy challenged.

"You're rather cocky for an omega." Sherlock said, "especially one in someone else's house, especially one that's run away." He might have added more, but he was still agitated from the morning's events and did not feel up to deducing much of anything. The boy looked at him, unimpressed. His eyes fell to Sherlock's trousers.

"You? Calling me 'cocky'?!" He said, "That's a laugh. Are you the tom, then?"

"Excuse me?"

"The rouge. The one with a million an' one little brats running around." He shifted lazily in the chair, slouching and spreading his legs wide in a gesture of cliche, urban youth defiance. It was an especially scandalous move for a young omega, alone with an alpha obviously at mercy of his hormones.

The boy's eyes moved back to Sherlock's crotch, and he nodded, happy to answer his own question.

"Must be if you're packing like that, ey?" He smiled, "I heard you and your omega was having the new ones here."

"No." The boy shrugged and the book slipped partially from his hands, as if he couldn't be bothered to support its weight.

"What is that you've got?" Sherlock asked in sudden alarm. The boy smiled and tilted the cover up.

"It's quite good." He said.

"That's mine!"

"Ha! Spoken like a true alpha. I don't see your name anywhere on it, mate." The boy said in the manner of a well practiced, lifelong pain in the arse.

"In fact, it is." Sherlock said, "look at the inside cover."

"What? Written there when you were a little sprog yourself?" The boy waggled his eyebrows and flipped to the front.

"I don't see anything." He said. Sherlock yanked the book from the boy's hands abruptly, snapping it shut.

"Oi!" In a surprisingly fast motion the boy sat up and grabbed the bottom edge back from Sherlock. "For a public school boy you're quite the rude one!" He said.

They tugged the book back and forth between them.

"Let go! This is a first edition!" Sherlock snarled.

"Actually it's a fifth," said a familiar voice, "Significantly less valuable, with or without your name. I swapped it out ages ago, in anticipation of just such a scene."

The two of them looked up.

"Well well well, if it isn't My-crotch." The boy said rudely.

"I might have guessed that." Sherlock muttered.

"I see you've met Sweet William," Mycroft lamented, "Mummy's latest stray."

"Unfortunately." Sherlock released the book and William fell backwards into the leather chair.

"Yeah? For me too," he said, "I was in here, mindin my own, 'avin a bit of a read when you lot came in to bully me!"

Mycroft snorted contemptuously, rolled his eyes.

"William is always the victim," he explained, "be warned, brother, on top of it, he has quick, sticky fingers."

"That's been made clear." Sherlock said, pulling his belt off a sulky William's arm.

"I didn't touch your umbrella! And I reckon I am the victim! Tommy here was about to try and kick me out for no reason." William complained.

"There's no smoking in the library." Sherlock said.

"William!" Mycroft gasped.

"Nothin' was mentioned outside of tobacco." William belligerently waved his vapouriser at the brothers, replenishing the air with the scent of marajuana. Sherlock's eyes teared up again, as the blended scent of drugs and young, troubled omega hit him. He shook his head and snorted.

"Does Mummy know about this?!?" Demanded Mycroft. William gave a sly smile.

"I'd reckon so, she's the one who gave it to me."

 

+++

 

Tea Time was destined to be a tumultuous affair. The children had been served earlier, given the impracticalities of thier numbers and ages. It was, after all, much work for the staff to prepare an all-inclusive tea as well as dinner. The latter would be taxing enough for everyone. But still, that left the boys: Mycroft, Sherlock, and John, as well as the omegas. Mummy was sure there would be some kind of drama, which made her very happy. One thing she did not like was for things to be dull.

When she arrived, her sons and William were already there, already squabbling. Stewart was seated with his notebook, quietly writing in it. Mycroft, ever proper, rose to greet them.

"Hello Mummy,' he said.

"Hello Darling," Mummy kissed his cheek, "how I managed to raise such a good boy is beyond me." Mycroft, as usual, looked pleased at this sentiment; no matter how many times she said it, her disappointment seemed lost on him.

"So you don't know," William was saying.

"Don't be absurd." Sherlock growled. He was agitated as always, his alpha side riled and overstimulated, the degree to which was obvious to all but himself. His scent was the strongest one in the house at the moment save John's.

"I don't understand it, aren't you meant to be quite clever?" William asked.

"I am quite clever. I'm a genius. You on the other hand, are a fool and a liar."

"I take offence to that! It's Stew that's the liar!"

"At least I'm not a petty thief." Said Stewart.

"What are you boys bickering about? Not the solar system again?" Mummy asked, already pleased that things were in progress.

"The Lady and the Tiger," said William.

"The Lady _or_ the Tiger!" snarled Sherlock. Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"William is simply doing as William does," he said, "being a general nuisance, toying with Sherlock in his incapacitated state-"

"I'm not incapacitated-"

"Then why don't you know the answer then, Tommy, ey?" William asked in a particularly thick manner. He let his tongue fill his mouth so spittle flew at Sherlock as he spoke these words.

"There isn't an answer!" Sherlock cried in exasperation, "It's an example of a thought experiment, in this case meant to make one reflect on the nature of-"

"What I don't understand is how this relates to a dead cat in a box," William said, "except that tigers are like big cats, so I guess the answer has something to do with that, right? Was it the tiger then?"

Sherlock blinked at William in disbelief. Before he could say anything, John came into the room. Wrapped in an immense robe, his pupils were dilated to the size of saucers. He brought with him the overpowering scent of herbal extracts and another young omega, this time a girl.

"Well! Someone's enjoyed their massage," Mummy said, quite pleased. "I trust Marcello did a good job." John smiled dreamily at her.

"Yes Mummy." He said.

"I helped," Emma announced. There was truth in this, for John might not have found his way to the table had she not waited outside the door for him (after having snatched pieces of his clothing and been chased from the room).

"That's good of you, darling," said Mummy.

"How many omegas are you keeping, you old pervert?" barked Sherlock.

"Sherlock!" Mycroft scolded.

"Emma, this is my younger son, Sherlock. Please forgive his behaviour, as you can see, he's quite lovesick, and as a result, rather addle-brained."

"Of course that doesn't quite explain away the rudeness," said Mycroft.

"I'm not-"

"Holy Christ, what happened to you, mate?" William said to John. He stared at John's belly, mouth agape, a look of corrupted innocence and shock in his eyes. "You look like you're about to drop a whole bloody pack!"

"Really, William." Mycroft said dryly.

"Did you do that?" William asked Sherlock. He got up and moved across the table. "No offence, but if there's one thing all omegas know, it's to watch themselves around rogues."

"Pleased to meet you." Emma gushed. She took the seat beside Sherlock, left vacant by William. She was very pretty, small and boyish; with blue eyes and sandy hair that was cropped close. She was trouserless but wearing John's pathetically oversized top. She smelled throughly of John and massage oil. Sherlock sat blinking at her, slightly perplexed.

"I'm not a rogue." He said.

"Rogues wander. They have multiple partners. Sherlock does neither," Said Stewart without looking up.

"Exactly-"

"Though it does seem like John is doing the reproductive work of several omegas. I gave a TED talk on that once." He added. Emma blushed and gazed at Sherlock amorously. A serving girl poured tea for all, then placed the pot on the table.

"You never gave a TED talk," snarled Sherlock.

"It was a TED _x_ ," said Stewart, "You failed art, first form."

"That's true," offered Mycroft, "I remember he spent all his time cataloging crayon colours, he'd rather missed the point of it all, and when we tried to explain it, he said-"

"How exciting! I've never met a rogue before," Emma interrupted. She moved a little closer to Sherlock, inhaling deeply. "Mmm, gosh, hot in here," She said. Sherlock sneezed.

"It's John's scent... Most likely getting to you omegas," Mycroft said. He picked up a scone, slathered it in clotted cream, looking bored. Hearing his name, John made a strange, happy sound, and leaned against Sherlock on the other side.

"Sherlock's mine." He added.

"He smells like a bloody hippie," said William.

"That's the massage oil. I meant beneath it, his pheromones," Mycroft said. "Did I not advise you three to take extra suppressants this weekend?"

"Oops," breathed Emma happily. Mummy looked fondly at John.

"Is Sherlock treating you well, my poor darling?" she asked.

"Of course!" Growled Sherlock.

"Yes, Mummy, he's a wonderful alpha." John said dreamily.

"He's not forcing you into anything, is he, love?"

"No..."

“No collars, no nesting, no threesomes with other omegas-” John's smile grew wide.

"Oooo! That sounds like fun!" Emma said. She looked over at John and licked cream from her spoon suggestively.

"You're such a nympho, Emmie," Will said.

“John is incapable of nesting.” Sherlock muttered. Mummy sipped her tea thoughtfully.

“So I hear, darling, so I hear." She said,

"Well, your children are destined to be quite strong, I daresay. That reminds me! Where is that lovely hunk of alpha we hired to keep an eye on him?" She turned to Mycroft with a demanding smile.

“Colin was very nice.” agreed John.

“Hopefully detained in a prison camp somewhere.” Said Sherlock.

“I’m afraid Agent Powers’ current location is classified.” Mycroft answered.

“But darling! Having that man with John is the only way we can relax!” Sherlock trembled in his chair and growled quite loudly, despite himself.

"John is mine!" He boomed. Next to him, Emma squealed at this display and pulled off John's top. Underneath, she wore only a lacey red bra. Mycroft sighed.

“We’ve been through this - having an MI6 agent taking your omega-in-law shopping is simply too costly for for either the Holmes’s family or the country. Not to mention overkill.” he said.

“Darling, are you telling me you’re putting a price on the children’s safety?”

Mycroft swallowed uncertainly.

“Not at all, Mummy, it’s simply that-”

“Oi! Stop it!” said William. All heads turned in his direction. He was looking straight at Sherlock.

“Stop what.”

“You’re trying to court me.” said William. Emma began giggling uncontrollably.

“What.”

William looked at mummy with a submissive, pleading expression. “Your son keeps making eyes at me,” he said," he's been doing it all day."

“Sherlock!” Mummy gasped.

“I’m not.” said Sherlock flatly, “I wouldn't."

"Everyone knows how horny toms are," William insisted, "especially if they've only got one omega up the duff. I reckon Tommy wants to make me his ...and anyway there's your track record right there," He nodded towards John's swollen, slightly supine figure. John's eyes were half open, he sat slumped against his chair, thighs spread, rubbing his belly contentedly.

"Piss off," John said. His words were thick and happy. "He's my big alpha, you little shite," He added. Mycroft made a small scoff of amusement as he stirred his tea. Mummy shook her head and tutted, delighted. William looked back at John, wholly undaunted.

"Well he's been messing with me since we met! Maybe you need to keep a tighter reign on his big, alpha-" Will's remarks were cut off abruptly as half of John's scone landed squarely between his eyes. A trail of bright red jam made him look as though he'd been injured. Emma burst into laughter, slapped her hand over her mouth in giddy alarm.

"Next time, that'll be my knife." John promised cheerfully. He ungraciously crammed the other half of the scone into his mouth, then happily pressed his head into Sherlock and inhaled. "Mmmmmm... Mine!" John sighed.

"Bloody hell." Will said.

"Oh my," Mummy gasped.

"John's egos seem to be a bit tangled." Said Mycroft. He squinted over at Will, who had taken out a monogrammed handkerchief to clean his brow. "Is that mine?"

"I knew he was in the military." Stewart said, looking at John, "I recognised the tattoo from when I, myself, served."

"Oh, shut up," said John. Sherlock laughed triumphantly, and rubbed John's belly possessively. John laughed too, but was quickly brought to a halt as he let out a sudden, candid, groan at his alpha's touch. He rolled his eyes backwards, trembled and sighed. He finished laughing, then fell silent. Emma's eyes gleamed with new excitement.

"What was in the massage oil?" Sherlock suddenly demanded. He reached over and wiped a little drool and jam off the corner of John's mouth.

"Oh who knows, darling?"

"I'm sure you do, Mummy!"

Mummy shrugged in hapless exasperation.

"One would guess Eucalyptus Globulus, Mentha Arvensis, " she said.

"What else?"

"vitamin C."

"What else?"

"Nepeter Omegeus, Origanum Vulgare..."

"You had him rubbed him down with Omega Nip?!"

"He's high as a kite!" Declared William.

"Ah, that's why I'm feeling strange," Said Stewart. Emma began giggling again. She grabbed the jam pot and scooped sticky strawberries up, licking slowly from two fingers.

"It seems all the omegas are affected," Mycroft said.

"John _is_ quite cute. I mean, pungent," said Stewart, looking longingly at John.

"It's perfectly safe," Mummy said, "and it's a wonderful muscle relaxant." John nodded and hummed in what might have been agreement. Immediately after, he moaned loudly.

"Perhaps Marcello used a bit too much," Mycroft suggested.

"It's also used as a natural supplement to help start labour!" Sherlock snarled.

"Is it?" Mummy asked with mock innocence.

"You're determined to get us to stay here, aren't you!"

"Well, after all, what's wrong with John delivering here, darling? It's safer, you'll be closer to the children, have more family around..."

"We want to be at home for it!"

"This _is_ your home darling. Yours and many others' before you..."

"We need our own space, Mummy."

"Which is why I got you a house of your own-"

"Right next to yours-"

"Exactly! Why, what a thing to complain about, darling!"

"If you don't like Will," Emma asked Sherlock, "can we go to bed instead?" Her hand slid up Sherlock's inner thigh under the table with surprising strength, causing him to jump. The table clatterd as his knees hit the underside of it, crumbs dancing, tea sloshing from cups. Mycroft winced, dabbed sadly at his lap.

"Nobody likes Will," said Stew.

"No one likes you, you wanker!" Snapped William.

"Please, can't we just have a peaceful, civilized teatime for once?" Mycroft asked.

"O-oh Christ..." John moaned. He ran his hands over the surface of his stomach dramatically.

"John?!" Sherlock asked.

"Little darling?" Mummy asked eagerly.

"O-oh! Shhhhhhh-erlock! Mmmmmm-" John had begun breathing hard, his hands roaming his belly. When the contraction gripped him, it was unmistakeable. Sherlock's eyes went quite wild, and he let out a strange, animal bark.

"Oh dear," said Mycroft, "perhaps we'd better get John upstairs." Sherlock and Mycroft helped John to his feet. John was huffing consistently now, occasionally groaning in either discomfort or pleasure. Sherlock began growling in earnest at everyone else.

"Sher- Shhhhhhhhnnnngh!"

"Here we go..." Mycroft soothed.

"Get away from my omega!" Sherlock shouted.

"Idiot! You need my help!" Mycroft shouted back.

"Hhhhnngh..."

"Don't look at him!"

"Good god, Sherlock..."

Emma floated out euphorically after them.

"Well, that was exciting," Mummy said. With a deep sigh of satisfaction, she dropped her serviette to the table, and left the room. Preparations had been made, there were orders to now be executed. Will pulled out his vapouriser.

"Can you synthesise some more of that stuff to mix in with this?" He asked Stewart. There were still bits of jam in the tips of his fringe.

"It was all natural, as requested." Stewart said.

"Even better," said Will.

 

+++

 

The great fortress stood majestic and solitary against the night sky. For more than a thousand years, it had been built by generations of kings, all who'd made great sacrifices for something bigger than themselves. It had taken many pillows, blankets, and pieces of furniture. Now it was complete, and none too soon. King Ben looked outside the mighty walls to see that his renegade brother had amassed the great army just as he'd vowed to. But Ben would never let Martin seize the throne. He had his own forces after all, none of them afraid of battle. Ben turned towards his Head-of-Guard, Lucy.

"Are the dragons ready?" He whispered. She nodded solemnly, ready to ride to her death if need be. King Ben was excited. The war would be great, it would be bloody. There would be tears and songs and books written-

"Look!" Una had run to the window, completely destroying the game. She always did that, and it annoyed him. Martin had immediately followed suit.

"Someone's sending code," Martin said. Through the darkness came the distinct flashing of a light from a window at the far end of the house. All the children scrambled to play the new, more interesting game that had suddenly manifested.

 

+++

 

The muted landscape of the countryside had vanished behind them, replaced by the in-between places of England. The small industrialised towns that were not quite suburbs and not quite historical cul-de-sacs would soon be replaced by the outlying neighbourhoods of London, then the city itself. Sherlock sighed with relief at the thought. He was calming down, becoming more at ease the closer they got to Baker Street. The sun would be up soon after a very long night, preceded by an even longer day. In fact, he felt a good mood coming on.

"That was brilliant," John said. He looked out the window in dreamy satisfaction. His pupils were still dilated. He rested his hands against his stomach and hummed to himself lightly,

"I bet Mycroft is still guarding the bedroom door for us." He mused. Sherlock chuckled.

"The children will keep him distracted," said Sherlock, "as well as Mummy and the omegas, at least for a while. They became quite excited by the idea of helping us 'escape'."

John looked at him solemnly.

"Is it really alright to leave them there? With those nutters?"

"Mummy has always helped troubled young people. She's quite good at vetting the ones she takes into her home. They may have their issues and be annoying to us, but I can promise all three will behave around the children, or they wouldn't be there."

"Better than around you, I hope. Those brats. Teasing and tempting my alpha right in front of me!"

Sherlock smiled.

"Jealous? I believe at least one of them fancied you, after all."

"They were all just so... degenerate..."

"That is rather the point John, to offer support and stability to people who have had none in their lives..." He smirked at some inner thought, a sudden look of nostalgia on his face.

"We had such people coming in and out of our house growing up. You see how Mycroft and I turned out..."

"Stop the car!" Cried John. His protest was muffled by his alpha kissing him abruptly, biting his lower lip.

"You're mine," said Sherlock, "and we're nearly home, and the children are alright and will be back in a few days. And you're _very_ good at faking contractions." he said. He ran his hands along John's enormous belly, a lusty expression in his eyes. John's eyes rolled back and he moaned.

"Yes, like that." Sherlock said excitedly.

"That- that's- I'm not faking, you big alpha bastard! Oh, ow, fuck, fuck, you've started them up again!" John gasped. He clenched his eyes tight, and panted, the fabric of his coat bunched in his fists. "That oil really works," he said,"Mmmmmm! Christ, you couldn't have waited twenty more minutes?" He sat breathing heavily for a few minutes until the lights of London had long enveloped them. "I think it's alright now." John finally said, "That stuff is proper."

"Naturally. When correctly extracted, parts of Nepeter Omegeus are quite similar to alpha pheromones and the corresponding endorphins, " Sherlock said.

"Christ, I remember eating it in brownies at uni, but it wasn't that strong when we were kids, and of course I'd never used it to induce contractions," John touched his belly cautiously. "They feel like practice ones."

Sherlock smirked and produced a small jar. With the lid on, the herbal scent was faint but recogniseable.

"Practice makes perfect." He said.

"Bloody Hell," John breathed excitedly, "you wicked, horny, alpha bastard!"

Sherlock's smirk widened into a predatory grin.

The mini cab pulled to a halt in front of their flat.

**Author's Note:**

> Mummy and The Omegas is my new band name
> 
> Also, sorry if you read this in the first 45 min of its being posted. Ao3 formatting on the iPhone is a bi-atch!


End file.
